


Paint

by Khloris



Category: The Promised Neverland, 約束のネバーランド | Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)
Genre: Birthday, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 08:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khloris/pseuds/Khloris
Summary: Belated birthday present to my friend Hhujo!! It is... very very late, but I am finally done... I think. Happy birthday, my beloved friend. I hope you have an amazing year, and here's some cute fluffy Ray x Reader for you.FYI, I hate using the phrase "(y/n)", so here is a fanfic in the first person that does not use "(y/n)"Please enjoy!





	Paint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hhujo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hhujo/gifts).

“...Happy birthday to you!”

The song ended with loud clapping and cheers. I laughed, clasping my hands together beneath my chin. 

“Thank you!” 

I quickly blew out the burning spaghetti strand that stuck up on a single piece of canned bread. Circling around the plate, there lay some fresh berries and mint gathered from the forest. The smoke lazily drifted up into my face, tickling my throat. 

Seventeen years. 

That’s how long I had survived. 

The first eleven, I lived as unaware cattle, ready to be slaughtered for my precious meat. It was like something out of those magazine articles about organ trafficking in the black market. Well… in a sense, it was simply that. It’s just that the ones buying us weren’t humans… and they weren’t planning to use our innards for some self-righteous purpose like saving their only beloved daughter. 

The next six was running… and running… and running... 

People died. 

My friends… died.

All because of the demons. 

But I was alive. And here I sat, surrounded by the survivors -- my new friends and my old friends, strangers I was still yet to trust and those who were close to obtaining it.

Even amidst the struggling nightmares, the scarring images that stained our minds day and night, and the blood on our hands, here we were, smiling ear to ear. 

_Happy birthday. _

_To another year of survival. _

As the sun outside surely began to set, the younger children began to grow tired and grumpy. It was when little Angela began to sob in weariness that everyone began heading to their bunks. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ray pick up the youngest and hold him close to his chest. As I passed by with a damp cloth to clean up, I could hear him humming a soft and familiar lullaby.

Those who were less weary began to help clean up the mess that had been made. Emma and I wiped down the tables with a damp cloth and washed the dishes that had been used. 

“How did you like the celebration today?”

I looked up from where I was drying the dishes. Emma stared at me with her big, wide eyes, full of curiosity. 

“I loved it. Thank you so much, Emma.” I smiled.

Emma grinned back. “Every birthday that we manage to celebrate is another year that one of us has managed to stay alive. It is a celebration worth having.”

I stopped what I was doing and hugged her tightly. Her fingers tentatively grasped back at my cardigan as an awkward response. She smelled of sunshine and grass and coffee. It was a calming, heartwarming scent.

“I’m so glad to have met you, grown up with you, followed you- I love you, Emma.”

Though still awkward, she eventually hugged back with equal vigor. “I love you too.”

When we finished putting away the last of the dishes, I wished her good night.

“Are you not going to bed?” Emma asked. 

“Mmmm…” I pondered. “I think I want to sit outside in the air for a bit. It’s gotten quite stuffy with all the released energy tonight.”

She smiled and waved as we parted ways.

Alone, I hefted open the heavy vault door and took in a breath of the cool winter air. The flowers we had planted around the entrance twinkled blue in the starlight. 

Our recent discovery of these demon warding plants were, by far, our biggest discovery. Now, we could sit out in the open without worrying about being jumped by demons, or having our hideout raided. Of course, if other humans such as Mama came along to capture us, we would have to gather arms, but we were safe from the wild demons that wandered aimlessly in the forest.

My head suddenly buckled under the unexpectant weight of a woolen blanket thrown over me. 

“You’re gonna get a cold, you idiot,” a deep voice scoffed.

I looked up to see mischievous eyes and an impish grin. Ray sat himself next to me, wrapping a similar covering around himself. His hair lay fluffy on his head and smelled of lavender. It must had been shower night for the boys. 

“Out of the bath so soon?” I retorted, wrapping the offered blanket around myself. It was rather chilly outside, fresh snow adorning the bushes and tree tops. Silly me had only brought a thin, ragged cardigan. But luckily, I had myself a Ray. 

I noticed that he held a parcel in his hand. Was it an old lunch box?

“I hurried as fast as I could after putting Peter to sleep. I... have a gift for you.” 

With that being said, he extended the box towards me.

“More food?” I joked. “We don’t have enough to be sharing around in secret.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, an incredulous stare crossing his face. “I know that, dumbass. Just open the present.”

My fingers gently traced the outline of the box. The rough rust lining its surface rubbed off as a fine powder, staining the snow beside me a reddish-brown. Beneath, the gleam of silver shone back at me.

I cracked open the box with numb fingers. 

_Thunk._

The latch fell off with a dull thud. 

“Uh..” Ray stammered. “It.. wasn’t supposed to.. I didn’t mean to…”

He ducked his head in an embarrassing gesture. It was surprisingly cute, how the tips of his ears turned red and how he twisted his hands together nervously. The sight made me giggle, causing him to glare at me through his bangs in an attempt to seem serious. 

“Just open it...” He pouted like a little child, shoving his face into his arms that lay crossed over his knees.

“Yes, yes. Of course~” I giggled again under my breath and turned my attention back to the now-broken box.

What lay underneath the lid made me gasp. Inside lay a set of vibrant watercolor paints, each separated by individual bottle caps that had been glued to the inside. 

The yellow of a sunflower field…  
The various shades of green in the forest…  
The beautiful, deep shade of an orange-red sunset…

“They’re beautiful...” I said in awe. The colors were a deep shade under the half-moon, but I could imagine the wonderful hues that would spread throughout my sketchbook in the near future.

Ray turned his eyes to glance at me, though his head did not move from his warm burrow. “I learned how to make them in a book that I had read back at The House.. The colors.. I just tried different combinations of plants and berries,” he murmured.

I grinned from ear-to-ear and threw my arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. Shocked, his hands automatically came up in shock. They hovered hesitantly behind my back.

“Thank you, Ray!” I giggled. “This… I love this!”

I buried my face into the fluffy blanket he wore, my cheek gently brushing against the brand on his neck. His hair smelled like earthy, sweet eucalyptus and warm cinnamon. The warmth that emitted from his carotid arteries thumped reassuringly in my ear; I could imagine it throbbing in rhythm with my own heart beat. 

I nuzzled my nose deeper into the crevice of his neck with a sigh. My wide grin softened as I squeezed tight. “I love it very much. Thank you, Ray…”

His stiff stance relaxed and he gently placed his warm, sturdy palms on my back. I could feel the heat through the blanket, and it chased away the rest of the winter cold that had continued to cling on. 

I turned to look back at my watercolors once again, though not moving from my current position. A thought of curiosity stirred in my mind. 

“How did you know I loved to paint?” I asked. His arms began to pat my back -- like one would with a cat -- as he hummed in thought. 

“Well…,” he started off slowly. “I remember… some time ago, when we were just babies… The leaves were changing with the fall and Mama decided to bring out some paints. You know she rarely ever did that, since we would make an absolute mess.” I laughed at the idea of us as small children, covered in paint. 

Ray continued. “We were all thrilled, painting everything we could see, both on paper and figuratively everywhere… but you had such a gleam in your eyes. And though the paints were only brought out once or twice since that moment, you’ve always had a sketchbook in your hand. I know you tend to draw only when you are alone, but I’ve seen you sometimes hiding it away when I’ve come to find you.”

I blushed, thinking of all the times I had scrambled to hide my sketches behind my back from the others, rambling about another topic so that they wouldn’t ask about my art. <strike>I would also never admit that half of my drawings were of Ray.</strike> The only person I had ever really shown them to… was Mama…

“Do you think...” I thought out loud. “Do you think Mama loved me? Loved us?”

Ray stopped patting me and pushed me gently to arms length. He gazed down at my eyes, and a brief pause ensued. I knew the question was sudden, but I think he understood that it was a serious question.

“Why?” He asked simply.

Looking back down in my lap, I began to massage my fingers, not because they were sore, but out of nervous habit. “She always had a smile on her face when I told her I loved art. Mama always said that I would become a great artist, and that one day, I could be like the famous artists in the books we always read about in the library. She said that she ‘loved my art.’ She said she ‘loved me.’ I have to wonder what was a lie and what was the truth. Was anything… true?”

He gently took my hands into his own, stopping me from my timid fidgeting. They were firm and large in comparison to my own, as much as a seventeen year old’s hands could at least. 

“I think,” Ray replied in his ever-so-soothing voice. “She hid a lot of things. It was cruel of her to lie to our faces and act like we had the whole world in front of us, when the only thing ahead of us was a demon's dinner plate. But…” He pulled me back into his embrace. This time, hugging me tight in return. I wrapped my arms around him again and breathed in deeply. My head rested comfortably against his shoulders once more.

“I remember her singing a lullaby, just when I was a newborn. It sounds strange to be able to remember such a thing… but I remember her singing to me. I also remember her warm embrace, her every ‘good morning’ and ‘good night.’” He inhaled deeply and nuzzled his nose into my hair, softly tickling my scalp.

“I think… there were moments where she truly looked at us and thought that maybe… just maybe, we would have a bright future. And maybe she had a love for us that was truly real. We both did what we did for survival. She just chose a different path to live....”

I nodded in response, not feeling the energy to speak. But the tightening of his grasp around me seemed to indicate that he understood me, even without any further verbal communication. 

Thinking back to Mama… it was a nostalgic time of life. In the end… I truly enjoyed my time at the House… of course, before everything hit the fan. I think I did love her… and maybe she loved me back. And in the end, her words and the time she spent with me shaped me as someone who loves to draw and paint, who loves to laugh, who loves hot chocolate… someone who “loves.”

As I looked up at Ray, I could feel that love sitting warm in my heart. I didn’t know if I could call this mere “friendship” love, but it was an all-encompassing warmth that kept me feeling safe and content, in all the good and the bad times. 

I yawned briefly, the moon now positioned right above our heads. It shone down like a spotlight through the gap of leaves, undeterred by the trees surrounding us. Ray chuckled and grabbed the paint box behind me. He placed it back into my hands once again, the cold tin stinging the palm of my hands.

“We should go to sleep. It’s late…” He removed his arms from around me and stood up, briefly brushing off the snow that had stuck to the back of his trousers. I grasped his outstretched hand and sleepily pulled myself up. 

“Hnnng….. Good idea…” I yawned a second time. 

“What will you paint?” He asked, as we headed back down into the warmth of the bunkers. The flickering embers from the fireplace left us with just enough light to maneuver our way through the dining hall and towards the bedrooms. 

“I’m not sure,” I smiled. I had begun thinking of different possibilities, but my mind was sluggish from exhaustion. “I’ll have to think about it.”

We stopped in front of the doors, the snores from our sleeping comrades echoing in the hallway. It was an awkward moment, not knowing sure how to end our discussion. 

Suddenly, Ray leant forward and kissed my forehead. In my shock, I only vaguely comprehended the red that crept up his neck and ears… and it wasn’t because of the cold anymore. 

“Good night…” He smiled and waved awkwardly. 

“Good night…” I mumbled back, my cheeks most likely flushing a similar shade of red. We both quickly turned our backs to each other and closed our individual room doors behind us. 

I slid to the floor with a hand over my mouth. My left still held on firmly to the present I had received. In front of me, Emma and two other girls were still fast asleep in their bunks, oblivious to the world.

**I think I knew who I wanted to draw tomorrow.**


End file.
